The Trial of Megatron Part One: The End? Chapter 2.1
Chapter 2.1
It wasn’t time to head back to earth yet. The team would have an Elite Guard escort assigned to them for their return trip, but until then, they would wait at a residential area just outside of Iacon, which scads of maintenance workers called home. Some worked in Cybertron’s underground, unclogging pipes that would stop up with time and refreshing the planet’s lubrication and subterranean oil supply. Others were aboveground specialists. Still others operated in deep space, assuring that Cybertron’s moons and sister planets were orbiting free of obstructions, assessing the condition of the large windscape flags that deflected solar storms from the Commonwealth and clearing space bridges.
It was here that most of Optimus Prime’s crew lived whenever their spacebridge repair duties brought them back to Cybertron. The camp was no-frills, built to satisfy only the basic needs of its inhabitants. Even so, most Cybertronians were content with its basic accommodations.
On the other hand, Sari had been raised in the modern, opulent, comfortable shelter of Sumdac Tower from the moment she was born. Things changed when her father went missing. Having to stay in the crew’s makeshift base in an old car manufacturing plant for upwards of six months was difficult at first. Living with friends made life easier, though and she soon grew accustomed to the plant’s drab colors, undecorated rooms and unconventional layout.
Seeing the Autobot barracks for the first time made her appreciate her friends’ sympathy for that downtrodden and neglected base, which, despite its charmless halls, was still considered home to them. The rows of apartments here emitted a pseudo-suburban feel, and the sense of neighborly connection that Sari sensed in most any human township was replaced by a cold closeness, as if you were alone in the world: one of many sardines in a can.
Again, most Autobots wouldn’t mind, but Sari felt claustrophobic as she stood with Bumblebee and Bulkhead near the entrance to one of the studio apartments.
“Sooo…” Sari said, standing in the apartment’s doorway, just one human-sized step away from the main room. “This is Optimus’s place, huh?”
“Yeah,” Bulkhead replied, “looks more like a library than living quarters, though.”
These types of small, three-room dwellings were standard issue to most spacebridge crewbots, who inevitably didn’t spend much time at home. Other than the living room, a single storage room and a bedroom were the dwelling’s only other commodities. Understandably, it was somewhat of a downgrade from Optimus’s old Autobot Academy dorm where two to four students could enjoy spaces for study, lifestyle and exercise. Clearly, the lack of creature comforts in the maintenance district had not stopped Optimus from learning all he could in his down time. His living space was clearly too small to hold the plethora of learning materials a former dedicated student would own.
Spacebridge repair meant working far from civilization for stellar centuries at a time. Orbital cycles of searching out problem areas in the network meant a crew only cleared a bridge about once every two deca-cycles. Despite the mundane and laborious nature of this work, diligent crews would be given a stellar cycle’s leave after returning to Cybertron. Some crewbots got together with old friends or enjoyed a vacation on a moon base, but Optimus spent his time in study, sometimes even volunteering at Iacon’s datatrax library as an assistant bookkeeper. Before coming to earth, ‘home’ for him became wherever a treasure trove of knowledge was.
Bumblebee and Bulkhead were more the generic type. They essentially stuck together whether or not they were at work, sometimes exploring the corners and byroads of Iacon, other times enjoying day visits to familiar spots. One stellar cycle, the two visited Bulkhead’s hometown on Moon Base One. Bumblebee had never been to the moons before and remembered the atmosphere being denser than on Cybertron and the erupting energon deposits made the air slightly pinkish. Nevertheless, the amiable robots that lived there fit Bulkhead’s easygoing personality perfectly. They were unassuming, slow moving and mostly hospitable, save a few curmudgeonly farming folk. Bulkhead was lucky to be reared up around ‘bots that encouraged his early interest in spacebridges and his then-grandiose aspirations of moving to the “big city” before his boot camp days.
Bumblebee wasn’t protofromed into that kind of environment, but into the overpopulated city of Kalis. He quickly discovered that he had to fight his way to the top of the heap if he ever wanted to become something more than a generic cog: a face in the crowd. Ironically, Bulkhead always seemed totally content with life, even though – in opposition to Bumblebee’s reach-for-the-stars mentality – he tended to set relatively low expectations for himself. Bumblebee could count on one servo the times that Bulkhead had complained or, like him, stared forlornly into the eyes of fate longing for something more in life to pop up and give him purpose. It didn’t matter if the two of them were on Cybertron or on an asteroid. Bulkhead was always kind. And being hailed as heroes on earth for the last two stellar cycles hadn’t altered him either.
The two of friends had been to their commander’s modest compartment before and felt the same sense of something erudite gushing out from behind every row of shelves and neatly stacked mound of notes in cybertronian lettering. Unceremoniously, Sari scrambled up of one of the stacks and sat with her hands in her lap. “Too bad we have to wait here all day. I can’t even read this stuff.”
“Well,” Bulhkhead began, “we don’t have to stay here. It’s just that this is your first time on Cybertron and we don’t want anybot getting on edge if they see you. Besides, Prime will be here soon; he just had to go to Kaon for that official visit he was talking about.”
Rathcet was also incapacitated, as he had been called to meet with Perceptor and the Science Guild to discuss the status and argue the fate of Omega Supreme.
At that moment, Bumblebee had one of his trademark bright ideas, the kind that were always bound to end in collateral damage and a firm scolding from Optimus. Voicing his opinion on the matter of staying in all day, he said, “Sari’s right, though! This place is a bore. All we can do here is walk in circles!” He waved his arms in the air. “There’s got to be some place in Iacon that we can take her so she won’t be seen.”
“Cool! Sightseeing!” Sari agreed.
Bulkhead squinted, deep in thought. “I don’t know, Bumblebee. You know what happened last time we left the team without telling anyone.”
Bulkhead had a point there. Two months ago, the threesome had abandoned monitor duty in the plant for an exploratory adventure into the heart of Detroit.
Still Bumblebee was steadfast, “Hey! We busted that green ring, didn’t we? Well, didn’t we?!?”
Sari concurred, “Aaaand, prevented that gang war. It was all really educational, too! I never knew Detroit was so seedy!”
Bumblebee fidgeted. “C’mon, Bulkhead. Nothing that bad could possibly happen here. This is our home. There are no supervillains or Porter C. Powell’s to slow us down. Besides! She’ll be right with us the whole time. We know this city.”
Bulkhead glanced one more time at the room of books then rolled his eyes in surrender. “Fine, but I choose where we go, got it?”
“Yeah, Yeah. Absolutely!” Bumblebee said, transforming to car mode, “Hop in Sari! I’ve got an idea of where we can go!”
Sari smirked and Bulkhead sighed. This was going to be a long trip.
